The Protector

VIII

I want to say that the annoying sound is a doorbell. However, the people rushing around, the panicked or defensive eyes all suggest otherwise. There's some hurrying to tie their hair up while leaping out the back door. Another group are all rolling their necks or cracking their knuckles on the way to the stairs. Clearly I am missing something.

I open my mouth towards Luke who shoves his hand in my face, rude. I lick my lips slowly, staring up at him with the same look Mum would give a neighbour for calling out my behaviour when growing up. They had the nerve to say she was a bad Mother, they learnt otherwise when I threw stones through their windows.

"Alex, take Lucy down to the safe rooms. A-one should be empty. Zack, you know the drill. Let's get to it." Zack slaps his brother's shoulder before joining the rest of the fleeing crowd. "Luke -"

"- Do as you're told, Luce. Go with Alex and don't cause any trouble." This bitch. He flees the scene too, leaving me to angrily grip at air and blow a sharp breath through my nose.

"Come on." Alex wraps his fingers around my wrist, guiding me to some back stairs that go down another level. How big is this place? I've never been to a building with two basements, plus there are more stairs which suggests there is yet another level.

I'm shown a long corridor with a bunch of thick steel reinforced concrete doors and rooms scattered along the edges. He opens the first one on our left with a passcode, turning the handle to tug me inside. I cross my arms and scowl as the door squeaks across the floor. I cringe at the horrible sound.

As the entrance closes, all outside sounds muffle. He doesn't pay any attention to me while dropping onto a sofa, stretching out to get comfortable like a tired cat. I am really getting sick of being treated like a fragile antique you lock up in a safe.

Strolling around, I inspect all of the drilled down furniture. Everything is secured in place, even the bookshelf has locked doors to keep things from tumbling out. The kitchen is sealed off by dense glass. It is a rather cosy space, decorated nicely to prevent the feeling of cells which I would rather be in right now as at least then there is a cause for locking me up.

Sitting down on the cold metal stool opposite the male, I fold my arms with a stern pout and subtle glare. He carefully opens his eyes to look at me too, probably from feeling my irritated stare. We let the silence rest around us. It vibrates along with my shaking anger.

"So... when did you find out?" He asks, gulping down the nerves. "Last night. I was at a club with some friends for my birthday." I try to reign in the intimidation since he isn't technically doing anything wrong. "That doesn't sound like a fun night."

"Trust me, it wasn't. I felt nauseous when the sounds and lights became too much for me and legged it into the toilets."

"Club toilets? That's gross." He shivers at the notion. "My brother and I were at our parent's funeral when we changed. He collapsed on the floor, covering his ears from the intensity of the music playing. I panicked because I heard everyone's heartbeats and knocked over the coffin. It smashed when landing on the floor since I hit it pretty hard."

"Damn."

"Yeah. We were adopted, so the rest of the family didn't like us all that much anyway. After that, they disowned us. If it wasn't for Luke hearing and finding us at a cheap hotel, we would have probably lost our minds." He smiles softly. "Sounds like him." I grumble, shifting around on the uncomfortable surface.

"So when was your birthday? I doubt you would have been drinking on a weekday." He asks, I scoff. "Today actually. Drinking was a daily thing for me, so the day of the week didn't matter."

"Oh... Well, happy birthday." I thank him, grimly. Today has been the furthest thing from pleasant so not really a 'happy' birthday. Yet, it somehow isn't the worst one, though definitely not the best.